The Long Dance
by PlasticPlastic
Summary: The Long Dance, they say, can be a complex and tumultous thing. Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny are just about to find that out. Chapter 11 is up, and the story is COMPLETE, so please read!
1. Chapter 1

_Ginny's Take_

_The Burrow_

_One Day Before the Wedding_

_Ginny's Room _

"Sometimes, I wonder if he even likes me."

"Likes you? I'd say the odds are pretty good that he loves you."

"I didn't say _all _the time. Just sometimes."

"It only proves you're paranoid."

"Just a little. Considering what I've been through, I think I have a remarkable constitution."

"You're changing the subject. The point is, you two have been making moon eyes at each other for ages now, and it's about bloody time it's over."

"Well...do you think he likes me? Sometimes he just gets a little mean...sometimes it even seems like it's random, I don't even know what I did to deserve it."

I shook my head, my flaming red ponytail fanning out behind me.

"Oh no, it's _never_ random. It might be over something insignificant...but not random. He often wonders the same thing himself, you know - wondering what he's done to deserve your ire sometimes."

"Such as..."

"Hmm...this almost seems like digging up ancient history, but very well. You remember your fifth year?"

"In detail."

"Yes, well, you remember when Harry came in after kissing Cho after a DA meeting?" I flushed slightly and reset my face to its normal cheery expression, realizing that unwittingly I had gritted my teeth a little as I said it. I often got angry at Ron - and the rest of my dimwit brothers - for being overprotective and jealous, but the truth was, I didn't have much room to talk.

"_I _do. _You_ weren't there."

"Well, Ron didn't confide in Harry about these kind of things. He confided in me. Anyway, do you want you to tell me about this or not?"

Clearly surprised that Ron would prefer to talk to me as opposed to Harry, Hermione nodded quietly.

"Alright. So I don't really remember the _precise_ details, but what it boils down to is that you insulted Ron for having...'the emotional range of a teaspoon'?"

Hermione flushed, realizing well that the remark sounded more than a little mean. "Well, he was being immature and ridiculous. Entirely insensitive to Harry's feelings if you ask me."

I bit my lip, adverse to having to prod my frequently defensive best friend into giving up her position. "I doubt Harry really minded at the time, Hermione. Besides, if you insulted Ron every time he was being immature, I don't think you two would have ever become friends."

"Fine," Hermione snapped. "But if this was a frequently occuring kind of thing, you'll need more than one example."

I smirked automatically, realizing that I had won this particular argument. "Alright...let's go to fifth year. Your sixth, that is."

Hermione groaned audibly, not particularly excited about the idea of talking about a year when she spent nearly half of it feeling at a personal low. "Do we have to?"

I pretended to ignore her, but rolled my eyes anyway. "You made Ron feel inadequate about his Keeping." Ooh, she _really_ didn't like that one.

"I most certainly did _not_! No one believed more in Ron's Keeping than me!"

"Rubbish, Hermione. _You_ implied that the only reason Ron was able to do so well was because Harry had slipped him Felix - whatever it was..."

"Felix felicis," Hermione responded automatically.

"Yes, that. And you _knew_ how hard he worked at being Keeper, and how sensitive he was about it -" Hermione cut me off, and I couldn't tell from her face whether she was getting more angry, more upset, or both.

"The evidence pointed that way! Harry pretended to put it in - Ron believed he had too - what else was I supposed to believe in?"

"Ron's abilities," I snapped back. I made my voice calmer to soothe both of our tempers. "And Harry's morals - he wouldn't cheat, Hermione. Besides, if you prod Ron all the time for being 'insensitive' and 'tactless', perhaps you should exercise some yourself! Even _had_ Harry slipped him some Felix thingy, you should've known better than to accuse Harry right in front of Ron! You and I both know that the two of you often have fights over tiny little things - how do you think Ron would react to something like that?"

Hermione sniffed and hung her head. "So I suppose all my fights with Ron are my fault."

"No, just more than you think. And besides, only _partially_. it always takes two to make a fight."

Hermione shook her head at that. "It doesn't. He sometimes tried to make it up with me in sixth year, you know, or just talk to me, but I didn't let him - all because of _Lavender._" She said the name with unwonted venom, as if she wished it didn't exist. "I never really knew what I did wrong. I suppose I do now, though - the Quidditch thing?"

I squirmed as we came to a subject that I was trying to avoid - not only because it was very sensitive for all concerned, but because I had always borne some of the guilt in that situation. "Partially. It was a lot of things, you know. He started to feel as if you didn't pay attention to him - he told me about a time that you were talking to Harry about how fanciable he was."

Hermione squinted as she dug back through her memory for comments she was sure she had considered obvious and totally inconsequential.

"Or the times you kept writing letters to Krum. Then there was the Quidditch thing, and..." I hesitated.

"And?" Hermione looked curious, since it didn't seem logical for _me_ to have any hesitation about Ron and Hermione's various disputes.

"Well, one time," I said, remembering the argument with painful clarity. "Dean and I were - well - snogging, if you want to put it that way, in a secret corridor. Ron and Harry came around - they were just taking the shortcut, I guess, and Ron became a little overprotective, I suppose - saying he didn't want to 'see his little sister snogging in public'. I guess I overreacted a little, so when Dean left, I went and yelled at Ron."

"...and?"

"Oh, right. So we started yelling at each other, in the usual way, until, well..." I closed my eyes and thought hard as I tried to get the memory out. It had been a long time ago, and my precise comments were ones that I had long forgot in the years of turmoil. They started to come, little by little, but I guess it was too slow for Hermione.

_"Accio Pensieve!" _Hermione's Pensieve, which she had taken with her when she came to the Burrow, slid along to stop between where we were sitting, cross-legged on the floor in my room. "Here," she gestured. "Use my Pensieve."

I nodded and drew my wand out (all of us kept our wands with us out of sheer habit, these days. I had tried to abandon it once, but had failed when I suddenly felt terribly insecure). Raising the tip to my temple, I slowly drew it out, little by little. I tried to focus on just the last part, but unfortunately, the entire memory came out. Oh well. It would give Hermione more context anyway - she always preferred things in context. I slowly stirred the contents with my wand and willed my memory - resisting an embarrassing temptation to see Hermione's memories. I probably knew most of them, anyway. We both stared intently into the Pensieve as the memory came up, my expression guarded and my face farther back than Hermione, who was peering with burning curiosity. _I remember..._

_I wrapped my arms around Dean's neck as we continued to snog, keeping my eyes firmly shut. I always did whenever I was close to Dean - sometimes even when we were just hugging, although we didn't do that often. One time I hadn't, and I had seen beautiful hazel eyes staring back out at me. Not Dean's eyes, who were a deep brown. Harry's. Of course, I was mildly startled, and pulled back to see a perplexed Dean - with regular old brown eyes - staring back at me. Even thinking of it consumed with me guilt, causing me to intensify our kissing and pull myself closer._

_I heard two dreadfully familiar voices conversing. Ron and Harry, coming through here! How could I have been so stupid to forget that the reason I even knew about this secret passage was because Ron had showed it to me - it was a shortcut to the common room!_

I looked pointedly at the birds outside as the fight between Ron and I escalated. It was painful to watch my brother and I fight so vehemently. He was extremely overprotective, to an even greater extent than my other brothers, but I knew it was only because he had spent more time with me than the others. We had frequent spats and made fun of each other constantly, but it was never a _fight_ - before, it never felt as if it meant anything.

Hermione didn't say a word as she watched the memory unfold, although her face started to adopt an expression of comprehension. In truth, even I knew I couldn't take anywhere close to all the credit for starting the fight between Ron and Hermione - but I knew that the words I had said to Ron, right then, right there, were probably one of the biggest reasons.

A sudden quiet from the previously loud yells of the two of us fighting preceded to signal that the memory was over.

"Well," I said. "There you have it."

Hermione didn't say anything, still staring into the depths of the Pensieve.

"Hermione?"

Her head jerked upwards, her perpetually bushy hair making a _fwoosh_ sound.

"Oh! Sorry..." Hermione said, but she didn't say anything else.

I waited until I decided I might as well go ahead. "Look, I'm sorry. I never meant for _it _to happen. I just wasn't thinking - you know how I can get, and how Ron can get."

Hermione smiled warmly. "Don't blame yourself for what happened, Gin. He still _chose _to do what he did - just now it makes more sense, is all." Hermione put a friendly hand on my shoulder as she stood up. "Anyway, I think it's time for us to help prepare the banquet. We've been putting it off a little long, don't you think?"

I grinned back at Hermione and started to follow.

"One last thing?" Hermione said in a questioning tone, right before we were going to leave.

"Yes?"

"Do you think he _loves_ me?"

I was almost stunned for a beat. _Honestly..._"Do you think you love him?"

Hermione hesitated, but then nodded in the affirmative, now twenty-two and no longer shying from the meaningful word as she once did.

"Well...why don't you ask him tomorrow?"

Hermione looked simultaneously mortified and thrilled at the thought and didn't say anything, and I smiled to myself as I went down the stairs to help my mother prepare for the pre-wedding Banquet.


	2. Chapter 2

_Ron's Take_

_The Burrow_

_The Garden_

_One Day Before the Wedding_

Harry looked in awe as the gnome I threw spiraled at least ten feet higher and twenty feet farther than the one he had thrown previously. I smirked in mock wonderment at my own strength.

"Well, I guess that beats your throw."

"It's not _fair_," Harry whined. "You're the Keeper - you're _used_ to throwing things."

"That's no excuse," I said. Both of us were sounding all for the world like snotty little twelve-year olds - it had been a full decade since _that_ lovely time, I shudder to think, but we were doing it intentionally. Harry, Hermione and I hadn't acted like kids in goddamn _years_. Noble and world-saving cause it may have been, but nevertheless, now with a job well done behind us, we were focused on recouping lost years - particularly Harry, who had now thrown off just about the biggest weight anybody can bear, and was a lot more carefree and looked it, too. Even Hermione loosened up, although that's a relative statement, as it meant smiling discreetly behind her hand at our childish antics. I teased her about it constantly, wondering if she had ever really been a kid at all. It was only in jest, though, and thankfully, she knew this as well. Nobody in the world could be closer than the three of us, in my opinion. We knew each other intimately.

A little _too_ intimately sometimes. Not that it bothered me, actually - it's just that I'm a wimp. So having Harry, now ready and willing to delve into adolescent teasings such as romance, already well aware of my feelings about Hermione despite me never actually voicing it to him - well, it was a little annoying, to say the least. Add to this the constant fear that Hermione was just as aware of my feelings as Harry - well, then we get into another idea all together. After all, if this was so, Hermione had chosen to very politely ignore them, which leads to the conclusion that she never bothered to confront me about it from the bottomless kindness of her heart. And of course, _that_ means that she doesn't like me. Sometimes I feel this line of reasoning is the biggest thing stopping me from just trying to sweep Hermione away someday, since almost everybody knows about my feelings without me telling them - wouldn't Hermione too? But love can keep people blind, and lately, I've been getting...I don't know, _vibes_ from Hermione. I say lately - I actually mean the past five years. Why haven't I made my move? Simple. I couldn't. There was _no_ time and absolutely _no _way Hermione and I could even grab _stolen_ kisses from month to month had I bothered, due to our extremely intense involvement in the war. There were proclamations, and we most certainly got closer as well, so I don't feel like it was entirely wasted time, but I think now, it's about bloody time I get to business! Nevertheless, tomorrow, at Percy and Penny's long-awaited wedding, I was determined to ask Hermione to dance with me, and then later - within the week, and preferably on that same day, finally voice my feelings. If I'm lucky, I'll get to kiss her. The fact is, I can't just spend the rest of my life mooning over Hermione. It needs to be definitive, and I need to know precisely how she feels about me. I may essentially be doing something that will break my own heart here, but at least then, it'll eventually heal, and I'll be able to move on.

Of course, it never hurts to get a second opinion...

"Harry?" I said as I grabbed a gnome and swung it extravagantly around over my head - narrowly missing Harry's, who had to duck to avoid it - and hurling it out of sight.

"Yes?" He said as he vainly tried to beat my record. I heard him curse as the gnome didn't even come within a yard.

"What do you think about - you know, Hermione?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. _The bastard!_ He knew very well what I was getting to, but he was going to make me say it out loud. Meddler. "Well, I don't know - a little bossy, but otherwise alright. Damn." Another failed attempt.

I grinned but didn't say anything for a moment as I scrabbled for a very evasive gnome. Finally, I grabbed it and hurled it unceremoniously. "I mean - well, you know what I mean - do you think she - you know, that she - maybe she - likes me?" Damn, can't I even talk about her without stuttering all the time? I sound like some kind of giggly teenage girl talking about a Quidditch star.

Harry waited a beat, and I knew what was coming. That didn't make me any less irritated. "Well she's been your friend for - what now, eleven years? So I'd say so, yeah. _Damn!_" At least I had some satisfaction knowing that not being able to beat my record was going to continue to enrage him for the rest of his life.

Bloody hell. I might as well just go out and say it. "Well, do you think she loves me?"

A-ha! He most certainly was _not_ expecting me to say that without quite a bit more coaxing - or irritating, depending on your point of view. He rested for a bit, putting his hands on his knees, after a running start had failed to successfully get his throws farther than mine. "Well - yeah, I do."

I started, and my hand slipped, causing my gnome to barely even slip it over the fence. I hadn't been expecting his comment any more than he had mine. I checked his expression to see his sincerity, or whether he was playing another trick on me, talking about love as love between friends. But his face looked serious, and his voice too. "Really?" I said, unable to generate an intelligent response.

Harry sighed for a moment, then patted me on the back. "Look mate, I've known you two for a long time. I think it's about time - don't you?" Harry said, struggling slightly with his words but knowing that I would know what he meant. I nodded, with a serious expression on my face. This was almost as important to Harry as it was to me and Hermione - we were both like siblings to him, I knew. His family, basically. "Besides," Harry grunted as he hefted an unusually small gnome. "Presumably you guys would stop your goddamn _bickering_ all the time if you decide to snog each other instead. _YES!_" His gnome had unceremoniously skidded to rest barely a foot after the previous record, his expression showing pure elation.

I smirked, preparing to wipe the expression off his face, serious matters forgotten. I picked up the final remaining gnome, which squeaked and kicked futilely in fear of my huge and rough hand descending on it. I prepared and put all my weight behind the throw, successfully clearing Harry's previous record by a few feet. I shrugged in mock sympathy as Harry's expression froze.

"Maybe next time."

Harry grunted in bitter assent as he shouldered past me, going back to the Burrow. "Let's go find Hermione and Gin."

I chuckled as I followed him into the house.


	3. Chapter 3

_George's Take_

_The Burrow_

_One Day Before the Wedding_

_In the air_

I grinned as Gin cursed, failing to get the Quaffle past yet _again_ past Ron. Fred and I had been virtually forced to admit it a few years before: Ron's Keeping wasn't just good, it was scarily near _inhuman _- more than good enough to stand up to a Weasley Quidditch reputation started by Charlie, and continued by the two of us. Hell, we could probably make most of the starting line of a great Pro Quidditch team. Charlie and Ron had had innumerable offers, and even Gin, Fred, and I had had a good number. But Charlie had his dragons, we had our joke shop, and even Gin was already a Healer. And Ron? Unknown. I highly suspected that he might actually take up one of the teams on their offer for the next season, for which training would start up in a month or two. Why not? It was everything Ron used to want, after all. His fame and fortune were virtually guaranteed. Of course, Ron was really a celebrity already, much as he would like to deny it, by virtue of his friendship and work with Harry. Every little thing that any of 'The Golden Trio' was going to be plastered all over the headlines. Guaranteed. The three were almost like gods - although to be fair, they _had_ saved the world, really. But the real point was that Ron just hadn't been as focused on fame and fortune these days, even before he got it. He loved Quidditch, but I had been suspecting that he may love other things more.

Harry (who was on extended leave as an Auror) swooped and flipped around as I whacked a Bludger his way, dodging it with an absolutely gaping space left. Damn. Fred and I are clearly a bit rusty, but we're warming up. Unfortunately, it seems everybody else keeps their Quidditch skills close at hand through the years, so we're left behind looking like idiots, thwacking Bludgers into the air. The only things we might be able to hit is ourselves. Embarrassing, really. I'll need to get a few hits in before this ends, though, and with Harry and Charlie - two of the best Seekers to pass into Hogwarts, _ever_ - that could potentially be very short. Of course, it was my job to make sure that if anybody got it, it would damn well be Charlie. I liked the other team on the ground fine, but I'm a competitive man, aren't I? So as far as I'm concerned, at the moment, they can all go to hell.

After dodging two Bludgers Fred had obligingly hit my direction after I had taken another shot at Harry, I figured it was time for me to get a little more involved. Use some tactics, some strategy. But who should I go for? Gin was too small, Harry was too fast, Fred had a bat as well, and Dad was the Keeper - no real point in hitting the Keeper. I decided to go for Ginny anyway.

"YES!" Harry yelled not more than one minute later as he came out of an absolutely spectacular series of aerial acrobatics with Charlie, clutching the fluttering Golden Snitch in his hands. I really should've been watching him more carefully.

_Hermione's Take_

I heard an exceedingly familiar voice yell in triumph and figured that the Quidditch game was over and Harry, as usual, had grabbed the Snitch. Saving the page in my book, I got up and made my way to the makeshift Quidditch pitch. I loved to read and all, but I had finished this book innumerable times already. It got awfully lonely without Ron, Harry, or Ginny around to talk to, and I, laying aside my work ethic for a bit, had decided to forgo preparations for the wedding for a little while and read an entertaining book. Ron grinned at me as he landed on the ground with slightly windswept hair, and I felt a familiar but still slightly unsettling feeling somewhere in the abdomenal region. He rolled his blue eyes and teased as he saw my reading material.

"_Romeo and Juliet_ again, eh? Feeling a bit gloomy?"

"Romantic, more like, I gather." Harry joined in on the teasing that I dreaded might be going in a direction I most certainly did _not_ want it to go.

"Oh really?" Fred grunted as he landed in unison with George with an ungraceful _thud_, stumbling slightly.

"And just who might be the object of your affections, Hermione?" George followed. This was _precisely_ the direction that I did not want things to go in! Why did things always happen this way? I wanted to say something, but as numerous options ran through my head, I couldn't figure anything out that would not have a chance at offending Ron in some way, shape or form. Of course, _inaction _was probably the even worse idea - like I wouldn't want to say anything if Ron was there! Which would mean he would assume it wasn't him! This was a quandary, an inescapable dilemma. Or nearly inescapable, as Ron thankfully proved a moment later.

"Leave her alone," he said brusquely. "I think lunch is on anyway."

I knew no such thing to be true, but the twins, attracted by the thought of food, made a beeline for the house. Harry shot a supremely all-knowing smirk at the two of us as we followed behind, but then went ahead.

"Thanks, Ron," I said, hoping he wouldn't be slighted for me not saying anything. Thankfully, that didn't seem to be the case.

"Oh, no problem," he said, retaining a lopsided smile that was halfway between a smirk and a grin. "But you owe me."

"Oh, I do, do I?" I said haughtily for the purpose of playing along. Was he flirting? "And what precisely do I owe you?"

Ron seemed to be considering something carefully, and now seemed more hesitant. I wasn't exactly sure if I wanted him to do whatever it was hesitating about, as it could be very bad, or very, _very_ good. "Well..." he said. "How about a few dances at the wedding? Plus the last dance."

Oh. He was most definitely flirting with me. I mock sighed. "Well, I suppose I don't have any choice, do I?"

He smiled devilishly, and I felt an embarrassing blush come to my cheeks. "None whatsoever."


	4. Chapter 4

_Ginny's Take_

_The Burrow_

_Day of the Wedding_

_After-Wedding Reception_

I smiled as I saw my brother, Percy, probably the happiest I had ever seen him. Perce had reconciled with our family during the war, and had been through some pretty traumatic stuff since, just like the rest of us. Needless to say, it was more than a little awkward at first, but gradually, everyone re-acquainted themselves with the Percy we all knew and (mostly) loved. Sure, he was still uptight and dreadfully stringent, but with Penny's help he had gradually loosened up, becoming a tad more identifiable as a brother to the rest of us. He was no Fred and George - or even a Bill, or Charlie, and certainly not Ron - but he had become easier to associate with lately - more like a person that some of us might even hang out with were he not our brother. Perce and Penelope looked happier than I had ever seen either of them, and I felt a wave of bliss wash over me. While the war had ended scant months ago, at times like this, it seemed like years - another life, another age.

I sneaked a glance at Harry, who was conversing with a nervous-looking Ron, then straightened out my dress aimlessly again. Harry, like a prat, had 'nobly' broken up with me all those years ago, but it had been pointless. Every time I saw him during the war - after his years of Horcrux-hunting, that is - he seemed either unable to look at me or unable to keep his eyes off me, and it didn't take a genius - or even an idiot - to figure out that Harry was obviously still in love with me. It gave me a kind of security, I suppose, but more than that, it made me angry that he had wasted all this time. Stolen kisses in between battles, moments of quiet in between months of hell - all that would have been enough for me. And him, probably. That was never why he broke up with me after all. I had hoped that after he saw that I was clearly going to be in danger anyway - and that Voldemort would know his feelings for me regardless of whether we were officially dating, thanks to Snape. He did - but he still felt tremendously guilty for making me go through the heartbreak, and seemed unable to restart any kind of liasion in good conscience. I left the subject alone until the war ended (for the most part, that is), but soon after, I started the SSHA campaign - the campaign to_ S_tart _S_nogging _H_arry _A_gain! So far unsuccessful, but I knew I wouldn't have gotten that far by now anyway, so most of the time, I've just been sending a veritable avalanche of romantic hints his way, regardless of whether there were people there or not (much to Ron's and my other brothers' vexation).

But by God as my witness, if he doesn't at the very, bare, _minimum_ ask me to dance a bloody good number of times again, he is going to be in a damned spot of trouble.

_Ron's Take_

_Why did I do it? Why did I do it? _This thought kept running through my head, as if on a tape loop. _Why did I do it? _I had essentially forced Hermione to take a few dances with me - out of selfishness! Who knows if she even likes me? Harry says she does, and so does Ginny...and I guess Bill, and Charlie, and Mom...and Seamus, and Dean...but that doesn't mean that they're right! Does it?

Bloody hell.

"Harry," I said in a pained, near-conspiratorial whisper.

Harry raised his eyebrows at me. "Why are you whispering?" he said in a conversational tone at perfectly normal volume.

I opened my mouth, but searching for words, only managed to make an incomprehensible kind of sound.

"Sorry?"

"Shut up," I snapped at normal volume. "She's driving me mad, Harry!"

"Who? Alright, alright," Harry relented as I looked at him in a way that evoked the phrase, 'if looks could kill'..."Let's go through this logically. You love Hermione."

I hesitated, but went ahead. "Yes."

"Hermione loves you."

I wasn't about to say this so easily. "It's...possible."

Harry snorted. "I'd say probable. Are you willing to at least admit that it's very likely Hermione has romantic interest in you, then?"

"It's...likely," I said, feeling an embarrassingly strong elation rise up in my chest.

"And she's driving you ballistic."

"Completely."

"Because..."

"I love her."

"Now Ron," Harry said, coming to his grand conclusion. "What do you think could _possibly_ rectify your mental anxiety?"

"I suppose I could...ask her to dance."

"That's a start," he said encouragingly. "And since you've already procured the promise of a few dances, you may as well go ahead now. The band's just started."

And indeed they had. For some reason, though, I still felt incredibly shy and nervous. "But won't I seem...I don't know, _eager_ if I go on the first song?"

"Eager? Don't you want to seem eager? Isn't that the point?"

"Well...I suppose so," I conceded. "It's just, I'm a little nervous. Very nervous actually. Perhaps I should just wait -"

"No," Harry said firmly, clapping me on the back and propelling me in Hermione's direction. "Otherwise you're a coward. Percy and Penelope are done their dance, everybody's on the floor - go!"

I gave Harry one last comment. "Why don't you get a dance with your girl, Harry?" I shot a meaningful glance at Ginny. Hopefully Harry knew precisely how much this was straining my overprotective 'big brother' attributes, and so would therefore get a bloody move on and ask her for a dance. He did, as his face got more serious than it was before, and nodded. We both stared at each other for a moment, but then split up, me to Hermione, who was daintily drinking some punch, and him to my sister, who was currently conversing with a jovial Charlie.

I reached Hermione.

"Er...Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"I don't suppose that you would like a dance now?"

"I suppose," Hermione teased. "That that wouldn't be all that bad."

She set aside her now empty cup and we made our way to the edge of the dance floor. I nervously, tentatively put my arm around her waist (recalling a similar situation when I had asked her to dance at Bill and Fleur's wedding a few years ago) and she placed her hand on my shoulder. Then we danced. It wasn't slow, although not super-fast, and certainly manageable, since Mom had managed to teach most of us some elementary dancing steps. Hermione, though, had evidently not gone through my Mom's tutoring, but was keeping up admirably, until she stumbled slightly. My grip tightened and my hand moved towards the small of her back, pulling her a little closer as I steadied her and continued to move around the dance floor. It still slightly amazed me these days how much bigger I was than her, since I towered more than foot over her.

"Thanks," she said breathlessly as she got totally steadied. I felt slightly nervous, wondering if I should let her go back to the longer range we were previously at, but to be honest, I was enjoying myself far too much to be so inclined.

"No problem," I replied cheekily. "We'll just pretend we were doing a dip if anyone asks."

Hermione giggled. "I didn't know you could dance this well."

"I've danced with you before."

"I know, it's just this dance is a little more complex than the ones we've done previously."

I shrugged as much as I could with my hand in hers and the other on her back. "Thank my mother."

I looked around as we went around the dance floor, feeling slightly light-headed. With a scowl, I noticed that at least half of the people here were staring unabashedly at us.

"What's wrong?" Hermione said. She seemed almost worried.

"Nothing. We seem to have some observers, is all."

Hermione glanced around with difficulty, as I was obscuring the greater part of her vision. After a minute, she looked back up at me. "That's true. Do you mind?"

I shrugged again. "Not really. I'm used to people staring at me by now." I noticed with pleasure that Hermione seemed to flush a bit.

Both of our feet stopped automatically as the music halted for a moment, the song over. "Well, Ron, that's one dance down."

I grinned as the music started up again, and spontaneously driven on by an inexplicable feeling inside me, did something I'm sure most people would never think I would do - including yours truly. "Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"I don't suppose that you would like another dance, would you?" My mind teetered in agony, my emotions on the brink of happiness and heartbreak. Of course, I was putting a bit too much weight on one dance, but that's just the way I am.

Luckily, I had no need to worry. Seeming truly happy, Hermione smiled radiantly back at me. "Yes."

I barely saw Harry smirk as we went around again, enjoying dancing with Hermione.


	5. Chapter 5

Repeated and verbose thanks for any and all reviews to be sent my way by any person whatsoever. Thanks, suckr4romance (nice to see you again),dancerrdw, and and-chaos-reigned - a ton! You guys don't know how much it means (hint, hint, other people). I won't bore you any longer.

_Ron's Take_

_The Burrow_

_The Day After the Wedding_

_In the Kitchen_

Why am I up at this time? It's 10:00, and I went to bed at, at the earliest, at 4:00, and didn't get to sleep until at least 5:00. Mum just shook me awake - somewhat violently, mind you, considering the time - at 9:00, saying that 'Minerva' (Professor McGonagall to me) wished to speak to Hermione and I at 10:15.

"What? What could she possibly want at this hour?" I remember saying drearily. It was awfully early.

She just looked at me, a slightly reproving air to her glance, but clearly as in the dark as I was. "It's not that early, Ron! I don't really know...but no doubt it's important, and you won't want to keep her waiting."

I agreed on this point, as even though it had been a long time since I had been McGonagall's student, I had vivid and detailed memories of her strictness. Not that she was bad, and as a matter of fact, I liked her. I don't think it was ever mutual, though - Harry and I made too much trouble, but while Harry saved the world and all, I didn't really have any redeeming features in McGonagall's eyes. In any case, if anybody was McGonagall's star student, it was Hermione. The two were very alike and had an _understanding_. Or something of the sort. In any case, the juxtaposition of Hermione and I seeing McGonagall together just didn't make any sense to me.

"So Hermione, do you know what this is?" I said as I sat down next to her, as she had naturally been a little quicker to get out of her bed and was already eating.

Hermione shook her head. "No clue. I know as much as you do - your Mum got an owl this morning asking if she could speak to the two of us this morning."

I frowned. "Couldn't be a problem with the war, or Death Eaters or something? I mean she'd want Harry too then, right?"

A worried look flew across Hermione's face. Evidently, the same thought had crossed her mind. "Well, yes, that's what I figure."

"But what could be this urgent?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't think we'll need to wait long."

As if on cue, Minerva McGonagall, looking slightly more lined, much older, and more shades of gray starting to sneak into her previously uniformly black hair, burst in from the fire. It was just about the most stately entrance you can have while spinning like a top from Floo, but this wasn't surprising. 'Stately' was usually a pretty accurate word to describe McGonagall. 'Dignified' also fit the bill well.

"Minerva!" Mum said warmly as she brought McGonagall into the kitchen. "Ron and Hermione had just _finished_ _eating_," she said with a meaningful glance to us, causing us to choke down our food quickly and finish it up while trying to be as neat and orderly as possible. Just the sight of her had brought the old tendencies back - when she passes, sit up straight, don't laugh, don't talk, be respectful...It clearly had the same effect on Hermione, who, unsurprisingly, was sitting with her back rigid in the manner she used to have in classes, and bore a look of deep enthrallment despite the fact that McGonagall hadn't started talking yet. McGonagall smiled (which was very rare, or used to be in any case, if memory served) as she sat herself down slowly in a chair on the other side of the table.

"Mr. Weasley," she said, nodding to me. "Miss Granger." We both nodded respectfully, staying silence. "I'm here to inform you something I'm sure you'll both be very happy about - Hogwarts is going to re-open."

"Really," Hermione said, clearly excited, but then looked mortified at almost interrupting McGonagall. "Sorry, Professor," she began to apologize vehemently, but McGonagall simply raised her hand, immediately silencing her. I stayed silent, but was very happy - nobody had envisioned Hogwarts re-opening for another few years at the least, and some questioned whether it was ever going to happen at all.

"As you imagine, this has many complications. We're going to have a huge first year class, and much smaller fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh year classes - the majority of which will be transfers from schools that have previously opened, or home-schooled students. However, the issue I've come to talk to you about is Professors. We've filled up most positions, but there are two remaining. Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, I am offering each of you a job at Hogwarts teaching, for at least one year, and more, if you wish. Mr. Weasley, if you feel inclined to accept, you will take up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and I was hoping that you might want to be the Head of Gryffindor House as well. Miss Granger, if you accept, you will be the Transfiguration professor. Provided you take the job, you will of course receive a substantial amount of pay, and live at Hogwarts as teachers."

The two of us sat in stunned silence. We hadn't known what to expect, but this came out of nowhere for both of us. Hogwarts re-opening, after a five-year closure? Me, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher - and Head of Gryffindor? Why not Harry? Hell, why not _anyone else_? It was like receiving my prefect badge all over again, but even less sensible.

"Well," I said, planning to say that I was going to consider it, "yes."

McGonagall and Hermione both looked surprised.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"I'll do it," I said, this time with firmer conviction and surprising myself as well. "But Professor McGonagall," I said. "Aren't you the Transfiguration professor? And Head of Gryffindor?"

McGonagall shook her head. "Well, no, not anymore. I'm the Headmistress now. Miss Granger, I assume you will owl me later and tell me." McGonagall started to get up.

Hermione shook her head with a decisiveness I didn't expect. "No, Professor. I've decided - I'll do it as well."

Both of us must have looked floored. My impetuousness wasn't exactly a new trait in me, so my acceptance may have been surprising, but at least within the realm of reality - Hermione had many more job options than me (deny it though she might) and could do virtually anything she wanted.

"Well, why not? I get to teach my favorite subject, stay at my favorite place, and spend time with Ron - it's practically my dream job." I felt my heart rise and felt incredibly sissy for it (but didn't particularly care) at her last comment about me. She seemed to be blushing a little as well, almost as if it came out accidentally. I saw Mom, who was pretending to wash the dishes, smile in the reflection in the window.

"Well," McGonagall said, slightly at a loss for words and surprised at both of us. "I can not pretend that I am not extremely pleased with the results. However, if you so wish, either one of you can back out of the job if you rethink it within a week - just send me an owl. If not, school term starts in a month, so it would be good if you could come in three weeks." We both nodded in understanding.

"One last thing. Make sure the both of you are well prepared." Hermione nodded seriously, although I was fairly sure that she wasn't really the target of this directive. "Teaching is not as easy as it looks. Remember - exercise control. You two will be the two youngest teachers at Hogwarts in decades - perhaps ever. It's important that you have full knowledge of everything that is happening at all times! You both have tough jobs ahead of you - but you've survived worse, I'm sure." An ironic smile twitched at McGonagall's lips, and Hermione and I both nodded in agreement. "Well," she said, turning around briskly. "See you in three weeks. One last thing - Mr. Weasley, if you wouldn't mind being the Quidditch referee for the games?" I was ecstatic, and nodded rapidly to show my agreement. Playing Quidditch had been my number one option before this came around, although I had been rethinking doing it for a long time. She smiled wryly. "Excellent. And another thing - both of you will have to turn in your required reading lists by the Friday following the next. I'm sorry to give you all this on such short notice, but we weren't sure whether we would re-open until now, and I didn't want to have you commit only to not open, and force you to look for another job. If you need any help picking books, I have plenty of previous books either of you could look at, or I'm sure you could fine many good ones in Flourish & Blotts. The manager is very knowledgeable about these things, just tell him you're a Professor at Hogwarts, the school will pay, naturally. So, I'll see you two in three weeks. I had a lovely time, Molly." Mom smiled back, and McGonagall was gone in a green flash, with no sign except the fading echo of her voice yelling 'Hogwarts!' into the air.

_Hermione's Take_

_Diagon Alley_

_Four Days After the Wedding_

_Flourish and Blotts_

"Honestly, Ron, is it that hard?"

"Yes, Hermione," Ron insisted. "We've had - count them - _two_ good Defense teachers for the duration of our time at Hogwarts. Including Harry."

"You're referring to Lupin, I assume."

"Right. So I have to pick new books - I don't want to follow the path of those who I supposedly learned from, if you get my meaning. Particularly the part where they leave after one year."

I shrugged. "Well remember, Harry told us that has only happened since Dumbledore refused to give Voldemort the job. I highly suspect that you're going to be the first Defense teacher to last more than a year for a long time. Provided you want to stay, of course," I added hastily. Secretly, I was hoping Ron and I were going to be staying at Hogwarts, teaching together, for a very long time.

"Well," said Ron, thoroughly exasperated. "Have you picked your books?"

I shook my head. "I'm choosing between..."

"Spare me, if you don't mind. These bloody books! How on earth am I supposed to know which ones are any good? Or what level they're for?"

"You could read them, I guess."

"I know _that_," Ron said irritably. "And if I had the time on my hands I might, you know, but I don't! There are thousands of these!" Then Ron suddenly took on a look of comprehension as if having a brainwave. "I know," he said, clearly excited. "I won't have any books."

"_None?_" I said, sounding - and feeling - scandalized. Books, to me, had always been the most important part of education, although I had always known of - though never understood - Ron's averse feelings to them.

"Oh very well," he said with a grin, after looking at my face. "I'll have books for each of the lower years - elementary stuff, you know, stuff they can learn from any old thing. Fifth year and up though, I think I'll have no books. Besides, they'll have _The Standard Book of Spells _for the more basic stuff anyway. How do you think that sounds?" Ron asked, sounding pleased.

"Well, it'll certainly be different from any Defense teacher we've had before."

"Good," he said firmly, then scanned aimlessly. "But that still leaves the problem of the lower years."

I looked around at the Transfiguration books, once again trying to recognize books I had found particularly helpful. Ron saw my face light up as I pulled out one of my particular favorites - _The Complexities of Beginning Transfiguration._

"Excellent!" I said, glad that I had gotten something done. "This will be one for first years."

Ron raised his eyebrows as he looked at it. "Uh...Hermione," he said, obviously hating to burst my bubble. "That's a little heavy reading, I think. I mean, not all students will be as...eager to read as you were back then, I don't think."

I looked painfully at the book I was clutching defensively to me, which, now that I noticed, _did_ look rather big, and reluctantly shelved it, deciding to take Ron's advice.

"Alright," he said, pushed to his limit. "McGonagall said something about the manager, right? I'll go get him."

I nodded and scanned as he left. Pointless. I looked over as the manager led a pleased-looking Ron to the bookshelf where we were at.

"Excellent, excellent," the manager said, in a low, soft, voice that was close to a whisper. Annoyingly, he seemed to be perpetually fidgeting, and moving, and his eyes, a deep green, looked out at you for milliseconds before rapidly moving somewhere else. Always moving.

"Now," he said, after looking. "What can I get for you two? Mr. Weasley, you said you were looking for a book each for first through third years?"

"That's right."

"Well," he said. "This one is an excellent one for third years, although some people consider it a little advanced." The little man pulled out a medium-sized book called _Understanding the Dark Arts _and handed it to Ron, who flipped it open and looked at the Table of Contents. He seemed to like the chapter names, in any case.

"Alright, this sounds good." Ron handed the book back, and the little man made a note on a piece of paper that was previously folded into his pants pocket.

"Excellent, excellent," the manager said again. He seemed to say that a lot. He found two more books, one of which Ron found suitable, the other of which Ron said looked 'a little too basic'. The manager smiled - he seemed to enjoy the challenge of finding an appropriate book for Ron, as opposed to being annoyed. After two more failed attempts, the manager found one suitable to Ron's tastes. I rolled my eyes. In the intervening time, I had found a Transfiguration book for fifth years, and another for fourth year.

"And what do you need, Miss Granger?"

"I need one book for third year and one for first." I had already known the second, and the sixth and seventh years would be in their NEWT courses, and the Ministry typically suggested fairly good options.

The Manager, who seemed to know how to find some kind of pattern in the slick but seemingly randomized placements of the books, quickly found two excellent books for the courses. Ron and I left Diagon Alley and sent a joint owl to McGonagall saying that the Manager had our orders for the books. After that, Ron went and got some new robes at Madam Malkin's, and we left, returning to the Burrow.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Everything Harry Potter is disclaimed. It all belongs to JK Rowling, last I checked.

Alright guys, if you're wondering why you are seeing the entire remainder of the story up - well, I was keeping five chapters ahead, but 11 is the last one, so when I wrote it, I just decided to post them all and not delay. Not the best way to rack up reviews, but it's certainly refreshing to finish a story so fast. 

and-chaos-reigned - Great to hear from you again! You've only got five chapters to go...Thanks for everything you said.

suckr4romance - I looked at your profile, and suddenly realized that your name wasn't just familiar because you had read some of _Year Six_ (which I don't blame you much for not finishing, I don't like it any more these days for the most part), but because I had read 'Hermione's Exasperation', your (mostly) co-authored fic with Buck. Creepily enough, I'm also about the same age as you, and used to live in LA as well. As to how long this fic will be, well now you know. It's nice to write a shorter fic.

dancerrdw - Thanks for your compliments! Great seeing your reviews every update.

Anybody here take the WOMBAT test as well?

_Ron's Take_

_Hogwarts_

_One Week Before Re-opening_

_The Gate_

I looked in wonder up at the majestic castle which I hadn't been to for such a long time, and felt a recognizable warmth swell up at me. While I had always had a home at the Burrow, unlike Harry, who didn't exactly feel welcome at Privet Drive, I had taken to Hogwarts very deeply in the six years I went there. It became a second home to me. I glanced over Hermione, who was wearing a similarly goofily happy look.

"Well," I said. "Shall we?"

I went in and Hermione followed, pushing open the massive doors of Hogwarts and walking to the Great Hall. Hogwarts may have looked the same from the outside, and it did look mostly the same from the inside, but it was a lot dustier than it ever used to be, and felt a little less lively due to the lack of bustling kids around.

"I suppose that Filch has left," I muttered to Hermione, who seemed a little surprised at the appearance of the school as well.

"That's correct," McGonagall said, approaching us from the other Entrance to the Great Hall. "Argus decided to retire after many years of cleaning."

I looked around. "I don't think I've ever appreciated him quite so much."

Hermione grinned but quickly restrained it since it was a rather flippant remark for me to make right in front of McGonagall. The Professor's face was blank, though.

"I'm sure you remember all your Cleaning spells? The elementary ones do the trick most of the time." McGonagall left us to do the work.

"And what's she going to do?" I said to Hermione as soon as McGonagall was out of earshot. "Twiddle her thumbs?" Hermione gave me a reproachful look.

"I'm sure she's just going to clean somewhere else. Come on, let's get started. _Scourgify!"_ Hermione waved her wand, leaving a relatively clean. I groaned as I brought out my wand.

_"Scourgify!"_

_"Scourgify!"_

_"Scourgify!"_

After a solid five minutes of doing this we had made some progress, although some parts were so dusty that they required multiple Cleaning Spells of variable types to get rid of all of it. I finally decided to liven things up a bit.

"I don't suppose a little music would hurt, would it?" Not waiting for Hermione's approval, I quickly conjured a radio, and tried to find a station. "Warbeck? Why is she always on? Hmm...ah, this is good. Always liked the Beatles."

"The Beatles?" Hermione said. "They were Muggles - how do you know about them?"

"Muggles? The Beatles?" I said incredulously. "No way! Best wizard band in history."

"Really?"

"Absolutely."

Hermione and I went back to cleaning in amiable silence, humming the infectious songs under our breath.

_Hermione's Take_

_Hogwarts_

_Re-opening Day_

_The Great Hall_

I drummed my fingers on the staff table nervously, anticipating seeing all of my students for the first years. Slowly, non-first year students that used to go to Hogwarts shuffled in and went into their Houses. However, this year, it wouldn't just be first years being sorted, but any new student, which spanned virtually every year and probably consisted of well over half the student body. For the most part, this meant that everybody's dinner would be served a little later than typical. McGonagall had promised everybody that she would leave the speech until after the feast, though, as Dumbledore traditionally did before.

"Alrigh', Hermione? Ron?" Hagrid grunted as he squeezed in next to me. We had been overjoyed to see Hagrid looking healthy and much the same when we had run into him last week while going through our cleaning job.00

"Fine, thanks," Ron responded. "Although I'm bloody hungry."

"Ron!" I reproached. "You'll need to set an example for your students. So no swearing, and try to be neat while you eat." Ron looked disgruntled.

"I suppose so, although I don't think all the students are going to be looking to me for ultimate guidance, Hermione."

"Yeh'll be surprised then, Ron. Teachers have a big effect on students, whether the students want it or not. Besides," Hagrid continued, smiling slightly. "You'll want to be a good teacher anyway, eh? Don' want ter be like Lockhart, eh?"

Ron looked speechless for a moment at the reference to Lockhart. "Lockhart! I feel insulted that you even dared to _mention_ me along with that moronic, bumbling, idiotic fraud!"

Hagrid and I laughed at Ron's indictment of his former teacher.

"Although now that I remember, Hagrid," Ron said, as a sly grin started to form on his face, "Lockhart _was_ a big favorite with some students. Eh, Hermione?"

I could feel my face flush and gritted my teeth as Hagrid and Ron roared with laughter. I even thought I heard Flitwick, who was sitting two seats away, chuckling under his breath. There wasn't really much I could do about it, though, but I was thankfully saved by Professor Slughorn - perhaps looking even more decadent, round, and grey than he used to - enter.

"Hello, Ron m'boy! No one sitting here, is there?" Slughorn took the seat next to Ron without waiting for Ron to answer.

"Well - er, no, I suppose not," Ron replied, looking mildly disgruntled. He had never liked Slughorn, particularly since he hadn't been invited into the 'Slug Club' like Harry, Ginny, and I had been. I could sympathize with him, though. It was never nice having a teacher play favorites, much less specifically picking your best friends, and not even being able to remember your name. Slughorn, though, had perhaps made one of his few mistakes when failing to invite Ron into the Slug Club, as Ron was probably the second most influential and famous wizard in the world. Slughorn had seemed to realize that when he had failed to ingratiate himself with Ron, he had missed the boat big-time, and had lately been irritating Ron by trying to get on Ron's good side - almost like a belated invitation to the Slug Club. Ron, though, was more than smart enough to see through Slughorn's ploys, and wasn't pleased at all when Slughorn kept annoying him.

Ron and Slughorn's jilted and somewhat one-sided conversation was cut short when McGonagall entered, leading the numerous first-years and other unsorted students in a long line, in pairs. McGonagall then took out a sheet of parchment, much longer than usual, and started at the first name.

"Absey, Jacob!"

A young, squirrelly-looking first year with curly black hair scurried up and put the Sorting Hat, which had already been on the chair, onto his somewhat undersized head. A moment's deliberation was taken...

"Hufflepuff!" Cheers from the Hufflepuff table as Absey made his way excitedly over to them.

"Acten, Sarah!"

"Slytherin!"

"Addon, Thomas!"

"Slytherin!"

"Aftmore, Andy!"

"Gryffindor!"

And so it went. The sheer number of unsorted students was sheerly surprising, even with McGonagall's warning. I could hear her voice beginning to quieten slightly, getting a little more hoarse as time went on.

"Hartman, Susan!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Christ," Ron muttered to me. "Does the line ever end? I'm really getting hungry now."

I nodded in agreement. Although I had eaten a little before the Sorting, I hadn't intended it to have to last me this long.

"Triskan, Woody!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Triman, Valerie!"

"Hufflepuff!"

McGonagall's voice was getting distinctly hoarse by now, although the Sorting Hat seemed much the same as before, and, if anything, a tad bored.

"Quinan, Amy!"

"Slytherin!"

"Quint, Gregory!"

"Ravenclaw!"

The tables slowly filled up, and even seemed to expand imperceptibly to accomadate for the new students. Finally, McGonagall finished. I looked around, waiting anxiously for the food to come. McGonagall said something rather perfunctory before collapsing in her chair, causing a huge, lavish Hogwarts feast undoubtedly prepared by house elves fill the many plates. I dug in voraciously, ravenous after all this time, as was everybody else, as there was comparatively little talking and much more eating. Eventually, as everybody began to slow down after the initial gluttonous display, talking slowly started to fill up the Great Hall, from a low murmur to finally the sound of hundreds of students and teachers conversing in normal (or louder) tones. Ron, thankfully, was eating with more neatness than he ever had when he stayed here as a student. Finally, after what seemed like a short time but was undoubtedly much longer, McGonagall stood up. The Great Hall quieted with comic quickness.

"I would like to welcome," McGonagall started, her voice now regained for the most part. "Every new student who has come here to Hogwarts for the first time! I am sure you will enjoy the years you will spend here. As returning students will be able to see, we have many new Professors," McGonagall gestured to either side, "who I am sure you will acquaint yourself with in class. To all students, old and new, remember - The Forbidden Forest is absolutely off limits! Also, there is a long and extensive list of all items that are _not_allowed in school, including a blanket ban on anything from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, unless approved by a teacher!" Ron and I smiled as we heard a collective groan issue from the student population. Fred and George's business had grown exponentially since the war, despite the fact that they had already been booming. They now actually had two stores, one in Diagon Alley, and another in Hogsmeade, where they were hoping to test out new products on the student population. Fred and George's creativity and skill with spells after all these years simply refused to run out, and it seemed the two were full of endlessly inventive and funny things to create, and were usually able to execute it with admirable aplomb.

"Now," McGonagall said. "I'm sure we are all tired and full after the feast. Your Head of House will lead you to your dormitories. Good night!" Due to the relative lack of returning students, it was decided that there would be no prefects for the beginning part of the year, until some students had managed to distinguish themselves and could earn the badge. Ron sat, conversing enjoyably with Hagrid, who we hadn't seen for a few months.

"Ron!"

Ron turned around. "Yes?"

"You're the Head of Gryffindor House!"

"Oh - damn - thanks Hermione!" Ron left quickly. "Alright Gryffindors, follow me!" Ron roared loudly. The mass got up quickly and followed behind him. I sighed as I went upstairs and prepared myself for what would hopefully be a long and restful sleep. This would be an interesting year.


	7. Chapter 7

_Ron's Take_

_Hogwarts_

_The First Day of School_

_Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom  
_

I surveyed my room quickly, making sure that everything was in place. I felt more nervous than I had in an incredibly long time. Luckily, my first class was second years, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, and not sixth or seventh years, who were scant years younger than me. My classroom was fairly standard, nice and bright, with stone walls and a window. The weather was brisk but nice, the sun shining in brightly, although shades of autumn were beginning to show greater in the trees, and some leaves were falling. All in all, it was a great day. I was extremely worried. I _did_ have a plan for each class, thankfully, drawn up with Hermione's help, so things shouldn't be too bad. I smiled as I thought of how Hermione was this morning. If anyone had greater nerves than I did right now, it was certainly her, although there was no reason for it - her lesson plans were meticulously detailed, and didn't leave a spare moment to chance. I had seen it and looked over her plans at her request. They were somewhat tough, but otherwise fairly good. Much better than how I was going to do, in any case.

Slowly, young (and jarringly tiny) second years began to shuffle in, beginning with a thin, weedy looking Hufflepuff boy with disheveled brown hair, and finally ending with a young girl Ravenclaw, with black hair that obscured much of her face. I breathed slowly, in and out to calm my nerves.

"Alright," I said to the class, trying to don a commanding and confident voice. The class quieted quickly, and I grabbed the clipboard with the roll. "Let's see...Amney, Clark?"

"Here," an eager sounding boy sounded out.

"Bartry, Jane?"

"Here," a lazy sounding voice said at low volume.

After having gone through roll fairly quickly, I started the class.

"Alright. I am Professor Weasley. Wands out, books away." Inadvertently, I reminded myself of Umbridge - despite the reversal of the words - and almost said _there is no need to talk_ as a joke. I restrained myself, since it really wouldn't make any sense to them, but thankfully felt a little more relaxed. Somewhat clumsy second years fumbled with their books and wands before finally clutching their wands in their hands.

"Stand up." A scraping sound was heard as chairs were pushed back and the students stood up, increasing their height by a few inches.

"Today," I said, "you will be learning a fairly advanced curse called the Full Body Bind. It's tricky, but very useful, if any of you are ever caught in a tight spot. Yes?" A girl with short blonde hair had quickly raised her hands.

"Have you ever used this curse in battles in the war, sir?"

I smiled wryly. "I have, yes, but that's off the subject. Now, if you please, I will need a very adventurous volunteer."

Nobody raised their hands, but slowly, a couple went up, and I pointed to the first one I saw.

"You there! Your name?"

"Morgan Mansy, sir."

"Alright, Morgan, could you please come up here? I won't hurt you, I promise." I grinned in what I hoped was a comforting way as the young girl came slowly up. It had taken hours of arguing with Hermione to convince her that demonstrating it would be a good way to start the lesson, who was apparently sure that even though I had been adept at this curse for over ten years, I was sure to somehow mess it up and drastically injure the volunteer. Which didn't mean I wasn't taking precautions. I wordlessly cast a Summoning Spell on some cushions which magically floated their way over and arranged themselves appropriately, so that Morgan would fall softly. I pointed to a spot which would be appropriate, so that no matter what, she would fall on the pillows.

"Alright Morgan, all I want you to do is stand very still. You're going to have to trust me, alright? This won't hurt a bit, but it may feel a little strange."

Morgan nodded and braced herself comically, snapping her arms to her sides and having her eyes shut tight. I raised my wand quickly and remembered to cast it verbally, so that they could hear the incantation, and exaggerated my arm movements so they could see how to move the wand.

_"Petrificus Totalus!" _The spell hit Morgan and she fell directly onto the cushions with a soft thud, as I had cast a Slowing Spell as she fell on her way down. Amusingly, I was so used to the spell that I was surprised when the majority of the class gasped. I lazily cast the reverse spell nonverbally and helped her up.

"Alright Morgan, feel alright? Good. Excellent job, ten points for Hufflepuff. You may go back to your seat." Morgan, somewhat shaken but more relaxed, went back to her seat.

"Alright!" I said in a commanding voice, and waved my wand, casting a spell to move all the desks to the side. "You will pick a partner! You will then take turns practicing the Full Body Bind on each other. I will not have any injuries, and any funny business and points are deducted and you receive a detention - so remember to use cushions. Understood? Good. Get to work." The students organized themselves into partners, and five minutes later, the Body Bind Curse was being cast left, right and center. Theoretically.

_"Petrificus Totally! Petrificky Totamus! Patrifice Totamy! _Why isn't it working? Professor Weasley!"

"Oops! Sorry, Scott, are you alright?"

"Professor Weasley? How do I wake her up!"

_"Petrilicus Motalus! Leptrificky Mortarus!"_

"The curse is _Petrificus Totalus_," I tried to enunciate slowly as the rest of the class continued. "Say it after me - _Petrificus Totalus._"

_"Petrificus Totalus!"_

"Excellent," I said.

_"Petrificus Totalus! Petrificus Totalus!"_

"Now let's not get over enthusiastic here," I added hastily. "It doesn't work any better if cast multiple times."

"Oh..." The student looked comically disappointed. I woke her partner - who had now been body-bound several times - and helped him up, and then left to examine the rest of the class. After a while I decided that most everybody had gotten it down pat, or as close as could be expected.

"Alright!" I roared. The class quieted instantly. "Please sit down in your chairs." The bustle of a class reorganizing itself was heard and the chairs screeched against the stone floor as the students sat down again.

"Now," I said. "Having practiced the Body-Bind, would someone please name its advantages?"

The class went abnormally quiet, an eventuality I had not been prepared for, as Hermione always used to be there to answer questions whenever I was in class. I waited a beat, then decided I may as well pick somebody.

"You there. I'm sure you can name one."

The student didn't say anything, but looked pensive for a moment. "It doesn't injure whoever you do it on."

"Good, the curse will leave people alive and well. How about you, got anything?"

"The person can't move."

"Correct," I nodded. "The recipient will be immobilized. How about a disadvantage? You over there, what's a disadvantage of the Full Body-Bind?"

"It's easily undone," the nervous student replied, almost saying it as a question as opposed to an answer.

"Good. I'm sure you've all written these down." I breathed in and out for a moment as I heard the frantic rustling of parchment being brought out and the frenzied scratching of the quills, relaxing myself. The lesson was going well.

_Hermione's Take_

_The Start of the First Lesson_

I nervously paced around my room, checking to make sure everything was right. I had six years first, which was nerve-racking, to say the least. Oh well, perhaps being around people closer to my age would cause me to relax. The bell rang and the students entered quickly, although not as many as a regular class, as they were NEWT students. I had required an E, like McGonagall, to take the course, but most people weren't interested in Transfiguration - it was much too difficult. It was still a fair-sized class, I suppose.

"All right," I said, taking a head count to make sure there were the right number of people. "I am Professor Granger, and I will be your teacher for NEWT Transfiguration. Transfiguration, as I'm sure you know, gets extremely complex around here. First off, though, let's take roll." I went through the names. Everybody was here, unsurprisingly, albeit somewhat tired and disgruntled, and, I could tell, somewhat surprised at how young I was.

"We'll be dealing with more complex things very soon...but for your first day, why don't we start off with some review? I'm sure you all remember _Evanesco_, the Vanishing Spell. We'll start off very easy - vanishing snails, like you did in the start of fifth year. You should be able to get these on your first few tries, if not your first. After that, you go to mice, and eventually, work your way up to vanishing your desk. If you do not succeed in vanishing your desk and chair simultaneously by the end of the class, you will have to do extra practice with it out of class until you master it, and demonstrate it for me by the end of this week, as this is an elementary spell and you should be extremely adept at it. Also, everybody will have to do a five foot essay on the Vanishing Spell, it's uses, how to do it correctly, and how it is used in the world today. Due Friday." My class sat stunned and some openly gaped at me for a moment, but I heard a groan quickly rise up, as well as an audible mutter of 'an essay _already_?' from several people. "Welcome to NEWT classes," I said breezily, restraining a smile with great difficulty. I do believe that I am going to enjoy teaching.


	8. Chapter 8

_Ron's Take_

_Hogwarts_

_The First Day of School_

_The Great Hall_

"Hey, Hermione. How'd your classes go today?"

Hermione smiled. "Very well. You?"

I grinned back as I shoveled potatoes onto my plate. "Good. Any problems?"

She shrugged. "None that could be particularly unexpected."

I rolled my eyes. "Me too, other than a student that had particular trouble pronouncing the Body-Bind, everything went smooth."

Hermione started laughing. _"Petrificus Totalus?"_

I snorted. "That may be elementary to _you_ Hermione, but keep in mind these are second years. And since you could do it perfectly in first year, that means that it's probably more appropriate for fifth years or so."

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"What it means, Hermione," I said with the air of a scholarly person explaining something incredibly obvious. "Is that not _everyone_ is as lucky to be as precocious as you, and therefore must take a little more time."

Hermione scowled but her cheeks had tinged pink and was clearly pleased, and she didn't say anything. A silence stayed for a moment as we continued eating.

"I can't wait to get to Hogsmeade soon," I burst out suddenly. The thought had been bouncing around in my head for days now - since we came to Hogwarts, in fact.

Hermione grinned. "Well, you'll have to wait until Friday."

I scowled for a moment, but then a thought struck me. "Why not go today? We're teachers now, you know, we can do that."

"Ron! You need your sleep - not any time to go tramping around Hogsmeade, eating sweets and getting drunk on Firewhiskey!"

"But we're not going to have the time later this week, Hermione," I wheedled. "Soon enough we'll have essays to grade! Students to teach and supervise! This is a limited-time opportunity! Besides, I won't get drunk or anything, I'll just have a couple Butterbeers - I've been dying to have one for ages."

"Stumbling drunkenness lost its appeal?"

"I'm more the academic type, you know me."

Hermione sighed, although a smile twitched at her lips. "Fine. We'll go tonight, since you're so set on it."

"You're coming?" I asked, surprised.

"What, you don't want me to come?" she said, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Of course I do," I hastily amended, a note of genuine remorse in my voice. "I just didn't figure you'd want to or something - but it's excellent! This'll be great!"

Hermione smiled slightly at my anticipation. "Well, you'll still have to wait a bit, you know. We can't leave until dinner's done. And we should probably notify Professor McGonagall."

I groaned. "Do we have to?"

"_Yes_, Ron! What if they go looking for us, or don't know where we are? We _will_ be notifying her."

"Fine," I said, slightly disgruntled and hoping that McGonagall wouldn't ruin all the work I had just set to this. "But we're still going, no matter what she says!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but didn't respond.

_Two hours later_

"Professor McGonagall?" Hermione said tentatively. I had tried to talk her out of this, I really had. Stubborn person lived and died by the rules, even the unspoken ones. Apparently one to file under that category was _Do Not Go To Hogsmeade Without Telling McGonagall_.

"Ron and I were thinking we might go to Hogsmeade tonight, if it's alright with you," she said, after she had attracted McGonagall's attention.

Amazingly, I thought for a brief moment that I may have seen the corners of McGonagall's lips threaten to turn up into a smile. For a moment.

"Very well, on one condition."

"Okay."

"You two are my colleagues. I understand it may be a little awkward, but nevertheless, you will both have to call me by my name, Minerva, from now on. Otherwise, we will never view each other as working peers - we need to break out of our previous student-teacher relationship."

Both of us must have looked mortified, because this time, she _definitely_ smiled for a moment. Saying this would be 'a little awkward' was a drastic understatement.

"All right, that sounds okay to me...Minerva," I added in for good measure, feeling incredibly stupid as I said it, but keeping in mind the rewards this would yield. McGonagall nodded, then looked to Hermione, for whom, I knew, it would be just as awkward, if not more, to call McGonagall 'Minerva'. For Hermione, there were students, and then there were _teachers_. She put them right up there with deities. Particularly McGonagall, who had always been her favorite teacher.

"Hermione," McGonagall said sharply. "This is entirely necessary. You must learn to treat me as a colleague, even though I am your Headmistress."

"But..." Hermione trailed off agonisingly. "Well, I suppose I'll try."

McGonagall inclined her head, clearly waiting for another word.

"Minerva," Hermione stuttered out with great difficulty, turning red as she did so. McGonagall sighed.

"Well, I suppose it's a start. Ron, Hermione," McGonagall nodded at both of us and started to sweep away, leaving us for our trip to Hogsmeade.

_Hermione's Take_

"Oh, you just think this is _hilarious_, don't you?" I snapped at Ron, who had been in hysterics ever since our encounter with Professor McGonagall - excuse me, _Minerva_.

"Well," Ron said, chortling. "Not calling her Minerva, no. But your expression - priceless!"

I smiled grudgingly at Ron as we walked the road to Hogsmeade.

"I hope everything will be open."

"The Three Broomsticks will be, at the very least," Ron said.

I smiled wickedly to hide a tinge of what I hoped was very well concealed jealousy. "Oh? Want to see Madam Rosmerta, do you?"

Ron shrugged noncommittally. "That'll be nice, I suppose, but I'm more interested in getting my hands on some butterbeer! And hopefully, Honeydukes and Fred and George's place will be open as well."

"I don't imagine Fred and George will ever close for anything," I said, smiling wryly.

"No, I don't think so."

I shivered involuntarily. It was a crisp, clear, and cold fall night. Ron raised his eyebrows.

"Cold?"

"A little, but it's not bad," I said, regretting leaving my wand at Hogwarts (I was trying to decrease my dependence on it these days). Ron raised his eyebrows, but waved his wand and I felt a warmth come over me. I smiled gratefully.

"Thanks."

"No problem," he said airily. "Ah, here it is! Just how I remembered it - except for Fred and George's shop," Ron added. Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes did indeed stand out, with flamboyantly red colors and flashing lights, although it was more subdued for Hogsmeade than their particularly rambunctious store in Diagon Alley. Ron's wish had been fulfilled - indeed, everything was open. The Three Broomsticks, Zonkos, and -

"Honeydukes!" Ron said excitedly, his face an expression of boyish joy. "Come on!" He nearly sprinted in, and I laughed as I followed him in.

"Ah," he said as we stopped in the entrance. "Isn't it beautiful?"

I felt a rush of nostalgia for the old Hogwarts days - a feeling I had been experiencing frequently recently - as I remembered the many times we had been here during and after our third year. The shop was slightly rearranged, as some old sweets had likely been replaced by newer inventions, but all the popular, old favorites were still here, and for the most part, it was the same.

"Chocolate Frogs!" Ron exclaimed, making a beeline straight to the large display of one of his favorite wizarding snacks. He grabbed a bag and unceremoniously stuffed a handful of Chocolate Frogs in it. I hesitated, but decided to grab some as well.

"We should probably send some of these to Harry."

Ron grinned. "I suppose so. He'd like some Cockroach Cluster, don't you think?" Ron grabbed two and put it in the bag. I laughed. Ron and I went around the store, both of us picking stuff for Harry and keeping a substantial store for ourselves. We paid, and then went back out into the night, Ron munching on some Chocolate Frogs.

"Ron," I reproached. "You don't want to run out of those immediately. You just bought them, and we can't keep going back every night."

"I suppose not," he said, wearing a comical pout, and drawing his hand out of the Honeydukes bag.

I couldn't help but laugh again. Ron had that effect on me often. "What say we have a butterbeer to cheer us up?"

Ron perked up immediately. Honestly, he sometimes honestly reminded me of small children these days. Which was refreshing, since during the war, he had possessed a weariness typically familiar to those much older, or not at all. Of course, back then, everybody did. We made our way to the front as we entered the Three Broomsticks, somewhat thankful to get out of the cold.

"Pleasure to see you two back. What would you two like? Firewhiskey?" Rosmerta greeted us cordially as we entered.

"Two butterbeers, please, Madam Rosmerta," Ron answered, a boyish grin plastered onto his face as he looked around at our familiar surroundings. It was, of course, later than we would ever have previously gone, but nevertheless, it was difficult not to feel waves of adolescent memories threaten to overcome you. Rosmerta turned back to us as she handed us our bottles.

"What're you two up to these days?" she asked, handing us our drinks. Ron and I both took a swig and felt the familiar warmth that butterbeer always induced. I decided to answer, as Ron was apparently preferring to drink.

"Well, Madam Rosmerta, you may be somewhat surprised, but we've been hired as Professors over at Hogwarts," I said. I saw her eyes shoot up incredulously, and wasn't surprised. Ron and I may be famous, and even I'm willing to say that we have some magical skill, but we were still considerably younger than any other teacher.

"Really? What do you teach?"

"Ron's got Defense Against the Dark Arts, and I'm doing Transfiguration."

"Minerva's not gone, is she?" she said, a note of concern sounding in her voice.

"Oh no," Ron said hastily as I began to take another drink of my butterbeer. "She's just the Head now, so she's not teaching a subject."

"Ah," Rosmerta said, seeming somewhat relieved.

"So, how's business for you these days?" Ron asked conversationally.

"Picking up, we're doing pretty well. Hogwarts visits will help now...and your brothers attract a lot of business, now that I think about it."

"They do seem to do that."

"Oh yes. They're quite the enterpreneurs, your brothers. Sometimes they even drop by here."

"Really? You don't think they'll be here tonight, do you?"

Rosmerta shook her head. "I doubt it. It's a little later than they usually come. They might still be there."

I took a last swig of my butterbeer and nodded to Ron, signaling it was time to go. It was getting a little late.

"Alright, well we'll see you around," said Ron, getting up. "Could I have one for the road?"

"Certainly."

The two of us paid.

"So, should we make our way over to Fred and George's, or should we head back?"

"Well," I said, surprised he would ask me. "I suppose a visit wouldn't hurt." Ron nodded, looking mildly pleased. We went over to the flamboyantly decorated shop. Ron entered the shop, which was relatively empty.

"Anybody here?" Ron asked, both of us adjusting to the constantly flashing lights of the shop. There were a couple shoppers, and a receptionist. Ron jerked his head in her direction, and I nodded.

"Excuse me," he asked her. "I don't suppose Fred and George are here now?"

The young woman shook her head. She couldn't be older than we were. Unsurprisingly for one of Fred and George's employees, she was stunningly beautiful, with slightly wavy brown hair that went a little past her shoulders. I was pleased to see that Ron didn't seem to be paying any undue attention to her looks. She looked mildly bored, but suddenly perked up.

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed. "You're Ron Weasley - and you, you're Hermione Granger!"

Ron's expression became one of total shock. Our fame was more than a little difficult to deal with.

"Look," I said in a kindly voice. "We'll see you around."

The girl nodded eagerly. "All right, bye!"

Ron seemed slightly shocked but readjusted as we continued out. "Bloody hell, Hermione! How many people know who we are, what we look like?"

"Don't swear," I reproved. "And many, Ron. Our names probably have the recognition of Harry's by now."

"Of Harry!" Ron said, turning a little pale. "That's ridiculous. I've barely done anything."

"Don't say that," I said, more sharply than I intended. Ron rolled his eyes but didn't reply. "I'm serious, Ron!"

"Fine! I created the world! I'm God!"

I snorted. "There we go." I shivered again. Ron's Warming Charm had long since worn off, but it hadn't mattered due to the effect of butterbeer, plus we were inside most of the time.

"Could you cast another warming charm?" Ron nodded and cast it nonverbally.

"Thanks."

We walked on in relative silence, going to the path to Hogsmeade. Hogwarts loomed in the distance, framed by the beautiful sky and stars.

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for bringing me out here," I said, thankful that it was dark, and sure that I was blushing.

"Sure, Hermione.

"It was great," I said truthfully, reddening more. Ron nodded but didn't say anything.

"Well, I guess we're here." I looked up, surprised, but it was true, we were at the gates to Hogwarts. Ron opened the doors and we went in.

"See you tomorrow, Hermione," said Ron, as we had come to a point where our paths would diverge. He seemed unsure of something, but with an impulsive air, he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, dangerously close to my mouth. I stood still as he left, but smiled as his footsteps echoed and I turned around to go to my office. _Maybe Ginny was right after all..._


	9. Chapter 9

_Harry's Take_

_The Second Day of School_

_The Burrow_

_Outside_

_Whoosh!_ I could feel the wind blow back my perpetually disheveled hair as I took a lovely swoop on my broom, feeling the familiar lifting sensation in my chest as it happened. Ah, flying. It was so wonderful. It was, in fact, an activity that had occupied me for much of my time for the past couple weeks, since Ron and Hermione had left for Hogwarts. The gits! Well, not really. I couldn't really blame them. It was most certainly extremely odd without them, though. While I had always felt lonely every summer after I came home from Hogwarts, even then, I had seen them for only a school year. Before they left for Hogwarts, I hadn't parted with Ron and Hermione for any extended time for five years. Unbelievable, slightly. But true. Through thick and thin, the two had stuck to me forever - through Horcruxes, battles, and finally, the last confrontation. It felt weird without them around, even knowing where they were. What were they doing? How were they feeling? I owled Ron yesterday with a letter asking if I could visit the two of them, Hogwarts, as well as Hagrid. It would be great to see Hogwarts again, as it had always felt somewhat like my home.

"Harry!" A familiar voice called out. It was Ginny, who I had been spending the vast majority of my time with lately. I could, if I wanted to, excuse it on Ron and Hermione's absence. Of course, that would also make me a dirty great liar.

"Gin?"

"Yeah. Mum says to come in and eat, you've been in for hours, and you're bound to catch cold," Ginny recited, obviously repeating her orders verbatim.

I laughed at Mrs. Weasley's mothering. "It's summer, how could I possibly catch cold?"

Ginny looked up in response. I did as well, and suddenly noticed that I had unwittingly been flying under a collection of storm clouds that looked an awful lot like they were going to rain directly on me.

"Oh. Well I suppose I'll come in then." Ginny nodded and grinned, and turned around to eat as well. Hearing a _boom_ that signaled the coming of rain, and the _patter_ of a slight drizzle, I hurtled down to the ground and fell clumsily into the house, narrowly escaping a torrent of rain.

"Do be careful, Harry! Don't want to injure yourself," said the concerned Mrs. Weasley, ushering me into a chair and placing a platter before me.

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, I nearly forgot - Harry, dear, you've got a letter." I took it, slightly nervous, hoping that it was Ron or Hermione. Unfortunately, though, it had a Ministry stamp on it, no doubt it was from the Aurors office. I noticed that Ginny had tensed up and looked slightly distraught, and took a strange pleasure knowing it. Tearing it open, I feverishly scanned the paper.

_Potter,_

_I hope your leave is going well. Don't worry, we're not calling you back until you're well and ready. If you want, you can quit for life. It's your choice.  
_

I breathed out slowly, relieved. While I was most certainly going to come back eventually, I was in no rush to return the helter-skelter life of tracking down Dark Wizards.

_However, there is a situation you're returning to when you come back. I'm old, Harry, and I only took the office as Auror Head temporarily. I'm too slow now to do this kind of thing much longer. I'm going to go back into retirement after a week or two more. The Ministry asked me to recommend a replacement. I recommended you._

I groaned. Unbelievable! Who could guess that the old codger would recommend me for Head Auror? Secretly, though, I was a little joyous as well, as I had obviously gotten his approval through the years of war.

_Now, I know, you're very young - probably the youngest Auror Head ever. But you're the most skilled, the smartest, and the quickest. You know what it's like Harry, and the other Aurors will respect you. Perhaps a little too much, but that's not the point. Anyway, obviously, you don't need to take the job. You can decline it if you want. But you'll need a position on this by the time you come back - if you come back - so I thought it was only fair to warn you._

_See you around, Potter,_

_Moody_

I closed the letter, breathing in and out. It was still slightly surreal to believe that Moody would ever recommend me for Auror Captain.

"Well?" Ginny said sharply. "What does it say? Who's it from?" I realized suddenly that I had been reading and hadn't told them.

"Oh, sorry. Moody. He says I can stay on leave for as long as I want."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "And?"

"And that he's recommended me for Auror Head when I come back."

"What!" Ginny yelled.

"Well," I said, thoroughly nonplussed at her anger. "I mean, it's not that bad...I'm thinking I'll probably take it."

Ginny looked grumpy. "You are going to stay here for longer, though, right?"

"Yeah. A while, at least."

"I'm going up." Ginny stalked upstairs, still looking mildly upset.

"Congratulations, Harry!" said Mrs. Weasley, sounding proud. She had always looked on me as a son, I knew, and was just as proud of my achievements.

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley."

_Ginny's Take_

I sighed, running my hand through my hair as I paced around the room. It's not like it was entirely unexpected, really. We all knew that Moody's position as Head Auror at the Ministry could only ever be a short-term kind of thing, as Mad-Eye was getting old and tired, and preferred to live in retirement by now anyway. Besides, he had too many disputes with the Ministry to ever want to stay on long. It was still slightly shocking, though, for it all to happen so soon. Harry was only twenty-two. Most Head Aurors were usually well into their thirties, at least.

It's not that I'm not happy for him. Harry's an immensely capable Auror, and will make an excellent Captain. That's never the question. But the thought of Harry going out to hunt Dark wizards for a job didn't really appeal to me. Sure, there was fear for his life, but that wasn't what annoyed me most about it. Harry was a good deal more powerful than any Dark wizard out there by now, and was as safe as anybody could be working as an Auror. Mostly, it was the thought that I just wouldn't be able to see him near as much, if he was hunting dark wizards. And Auror Captains spend at least twice as much time at work as regular Aurors, since they have to manage every mission as well as their own.

Of course, in a way, it was inevitable that Harry and I would eventually have to return to our jobs. I was on leave from St. Mungo's, but unlike Harry, did not have the option of staying indefinitely. I would have to go back in a week or two, and would be partially glad to do it - earning my own money again, living away from my parents and brothers, whom, though I loved dearly, could get aggravating. But these past few months after the war had been a blissful paradise, and none of us had ever wanted to wake up from it. Ron and Hermione already have - they've secured enjoyable and long-lasting jobs, plus they have the added bonus of being able to stay at Hogwarts and spend time with each other. Their relationship could go further, and would, I imagined, even though it would be slightly difficult with all the students around. Harry and I would have a tougher time of it, plus, we _still_ hadn't really _done_ anything. Well, I suppose that's not strictly true. We danced together all afternoon and night at the wedding. But since then, we hadn't done anything. We spent a ton of time together, particularly since Ron and Hermione were gone. But as friends. I wanted more, and still do. I think he wants more as well.

Of course, the reality is, Harry's always so tentative when it comes to romance. Never really wants to offend, I guess, so he barely ever makes a move. Right now, I even suspected that the primary reason Harry even got the guts to ask me to dance was due to some suggestive prodding from Ron. Without Ron and Hermione's poking and edging, our romance had become a little more vague. If you look at it one way, it had entirely stopped. Other than brief, awkward moments, there was no hint of Harry wanting to pursue romantic relations with me. In another manner, it was accelerating. Spending more time with Harry had forced me to realize that I truly, fully enjoyed his company, no matter where and when, or how he's feeling. You couldn't really say we had grown closer with entire truthfulness, as we have been very close since before the war. But it may not have been until very recently that I had fully realized the extent of my feelings for Harry. Slightly funny, if you think about it, considering these very feelings had started in my pre-teen years.

"Gin?" said Harry, his voice slightly concerned. Evidently, I had not hid my slightly upset emotions very well. "You all right?"

"Yeah," I replied, coming down the stairs. "Want to play some Quidditch?"

"Sure, I'll see if anyone else wants to play."

I sighed quietly as Harry looked for the twins. It seemed obvious, now, that if Harry and I were ever to get together, it would have to be very soon, and it would have to be me that makes the first move.


	10. Chapter 10

_Ginny's Take_

_The Burrow_

_The Second Day of School_

_Outside_

"Why is it I always seem to lose at Quidditch these days?" Fred grumbled as he landed.

"That's what happens when you play against Harry," I taunted. Thankfully, I was on Harry's team while we played. The game had been much closer this time without Ron's Keeping, but Harry had managed to pull out with the Snitch when George had hit Charlie in the back with a nastily well-aimed Bludger while he was pursuing the Snitch. These pickup games were always high-tension in the Weasley household - we were a very competitive family.

George snorted. "Charlie has clearly lost his touch."

"You watch yourself, George," Charlie growled, flexing his muscles menacingly.

"Hey! Who's the one with the bat, eh? If you were really a good Seeker, you would have been able to - " George's comments were cut off abruptly when Charlie decided to tackle him, resulting in an impromptu wrestling match, wrenching George's Beater Bat away from him.

"Yeah - let's see how tough you are _now_, without your bat!"

"Eh! Get off me, get off! Ah - oof!" George pounded Charlie's back fruitlessly as Charlie picked him up and tossed him unceremoniously onto the ground. Charlie had always been the strongest of us, despite his physical quickness, and could easily heft more weight than George, who was taller but considerably slimmer. The rest of us laughed as Charlie grinned triumphantly over a sputtering and dirty George.

"Ridiculous! I'll get you back," George spat, suddenly throwing a fistful of white powder that had been hidden in his pocket right at Charlie, and mumbled something as he said it. The powder flashed with blinding brightness on impact, and we all reflexively covered our eyes, seeing stars, barring Fred and George, who had been prepared and shut their eyes tight. I opened my eyes slightly, tearing a little, and as the white spots of light faded, I saw...

"A turtle?" said Bill. "You turned Charlie into a _turtle_?" Fred and George were rolling on the floor, wiping tears from their eyes, and the rest of us were laughing as well. I had to admit, it was pretty funny. Charlie turtle just didn't look like an ordinary turtle. The body was suitable, but the head was virtually identical to Charlie's regular head, just shrunken.

"You change me back, right now, before I kill you?" Charlie squeaked. However, this only sent us into more fits of high hysterics, as, clearly as another planned effect of the spell, Charlie's voice had heightened as well. It sounded like he had just inhaled helium.

"Alright, you done your Quidditch game? It's dinner time!" Mum said as she came out. "What's so funny?" she asked, noticing our jovial state. Her eye rested on turtle Charlie. She raised her eyes at us, as she was seeing him from the back, and was unable to see the head, and had not realized it was Charlie.

"It's just a turtle, right? What's so - _Good Lord!_" Charlie had turned around, his expression still uncharacteristically livid, at hearing my mother.

"Mom! Make the bastards turn me back!" Charlie complained. I saw a smile twitch at Mom's lips as she heard him, but, sensibly, she concealed it quickly.

"Language, Charlie! And yes - Fred, George, turn him back _right now_." She put a particular emphasis on the last two words, adding what Fred and George used to call the 'danger' voice. Meaning it signified that she should not be pushed.

"Oh - well yes, I suppose that would be alright," said Fred, still chortling. Quickly, he took a fistful of white powder - the rest of us quickly covered our eyes, although Charlie had some difficulty doing this, and started to yelp, becoming off-balance - and threw it on Charlie, mumbling 'human' under his breath. Before I had taken my arm off my eyes, I heard an enraged roar - Charlie, at normal volume and pitch - and then heard two pairs of feet running at lightning speed, with a heavier pair following them. I took my arm off my eyes to see Charlie chasing the cackling twins around the yard.

Just a normal day at the Weasleys'.

_Harry's Take_

"All right, I'm going for a walk," announced Ginny, about fifteen minutes after finishing dinner. "Anyone want to join me?"

I'm not dumb, not really. And so, when a woman who I may very well be in love with announces she's going on a walk, and then proceeds to look _directly_ _at me_ and ask if anyone would go for a walk, I knew that what she really meant was 'Harry, you will come on a 'walk' with me _now_'. Nor was this lost on other occupants of the room.

"Yeah, right, 'anyone'," Fred snorted skeptically. "And when you say 'anyone', Gin, what you really mean is - ouch!"

Bill had elbowed him right as Fred was sure to say 'Harry'. I nodded my thanks at him, but he only grinned and continued playing chess against George, acting as if nothing had happened.

"Sure, Gin, I'll go with you," I spoke up. Ginny nodded, her face a too well-acted mask of neutrality, and went out the door as I followed her out.

The night was great, chilly but refreshing, slightly damp from the previous rain, but thankfully not humid. Not to mention the stars were out, and shining, although some were obscured by errant clouds, especially on the west horizon, where the storm clouds were moving. I could see Ginny in front of me, despite the dark, particularly her red hair, which was spread out across her back.

"Nice night, isn't it?" asked Gin as we walked. For all the times I had visited the Burrow, I had never bothered to get tremendously familiar with the surrounding terrain, preferring to stay mostly in the immediate surroundings, and preferring to Apparate when necessary (an experience I still wasn't fond of, although I had grown more accustomed to it).

"Very pretty," I responded, intending to please. I saw a fleeting smile in the dark as Ginny grinned.

"Never knew you were a...romantic, Harry," said Ginny, teasing. It was almost a challenge.

"Only sometimes," I responded ambiguously. "And with certain people," I added, much less ambiguously, and suddenly feeling very exposed.

Ginny seemed pleased, but didn't say anything. Finally, she stopped. We were at the top of a hill that overlooked the expansive forest, and I could see the lights of Ottery St. Catchpole a good distance away, so that we could see it, but not hear it. She sat down on the mildly wet grass, and I followed suit, feeling nervous but irrestisibly and embarrassingly excited.

"Harry," she said suddenly, and pensively, after a few minutes of silence. "We've been through a lot, right?"

"Yeah," I said, slightly surprised.

"And, I think, that in a lot of our lives, people don't realize how much time they waste."

I raised my eyebrows slightly. "No?"

Gin shook her head emphatically. "They don't. People fear making mistakes, I think."

"True," I admitted. I knew the feeling intimately.

"But mistakes are an inevitable part of life, I feel. If you go around fearing everything you do, you're paralyzed by inaction! You're never happy," said Ginny even more forcefully. "I think it's important for people to do what they want, even if they risk something when they do it."

"Absolutely," I said.

Suddenly, Ginny scooted closer to me, so that we were right next to each other, our sides touching. I looked at her reflexively and she looked straight back, an intense, fiery look in her eyes. Unable to pull my gaze away and unsure if I would even want to if I had the ability, I stared with intense longing, contemplating whether or not to kiss her. Ginny ended the contemplation abruptly, though, leaning in suddenly under me and kissing me directly on the lips briefly, her hand snaking up to the back of my neck. I gazed at her for a moment as she looked back and pulled away, a somewhat unreadable expression on her face. I made my decision quickly, and leaned in and kissed her again.


	11. Chapter 11

There's never a better time to review._  
_

_Ron's Take_

_Hogwarts_

_The Fifth Day of School_

_Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom_

"Alright," I growled menacingly to the second years. "Let's review what we've learned so far. Could anyone tell me what a boggart is? Yes, you, Sarsin."

"A boggart," Joseph Sarsin said tentatively, "takes the shape of the target's worst fear."

"Correct, five points to Gryffindor. And how do we fight them?" Sarsin raised his hand again, but I preferred not to call on people repeatedly though, as a rule. "What do you think, Tarn?"

A girl who had been lazily chewing gum and clearly paying no attention at all suddenly snapped rigidly up. It was pretty obvious from a cursory glance at her notes that she had merely been doodling, and I felt strongly tempted to Summon them and announce their contents to the class, but resisted, preferring to tower over her in intimidation.

"A Tickling Charm?"

I shook my head at her sad attempt at answering a simple question. "Pay attention, Miss Tarn. That's five points from Hufflepuff. Alright, anyone else got an idea? Yes, Miss Bark?"

"Fight them in crowds," she said with a bossy tone in her voice. I restrained rolling my eyes with difficulty, and nodded to motion her to continue. "Think of something really funny and use the incantation _Riddikulus_, moving your wand in a -"

"That's quite all right," I interrupted hastily, noticing the class time was nearly over, and not wanting a lecture on the correct wand movements of _Riddikulus_. "Five points to Hufflepuff. Now, class," I said, taking a more commanding tone in my voice. "I expect you to practice _Riddikulus _several times over the weekend, as each of you will be able to have a go at a boggart on Monday. If you don't practice, it'll show, as this is a fairly tricky spell for your age. Clear? Good. Dismissed - have a fun weekend."

The classmates mumbled to each other as they went out in their typical packs, three or four shuffling out at a time. As soon as they were gone, I closed the door, leaned way back in my chair, and heaved an exhausted sigh. Teaching was satisfying, as well as enjoyable, but it was most certainly more tiring than I had been counting on. I closed my eyes, thinking of a later engagement I had planned with Hermione for tonight. We had had a blast on Monday at Hogsmeade, and, with the weekend now here, we would be able to indulge ourselves...go out for a drink at the Three Broomsticks. While seeing, talking, and being with Hermione without Harry was a little odd, as we had been around each other nonstop for years now, it was also an opportunity to talk to Hermione more. And of course, to finally make a move. While I could see that there would perhaps be some complications with two professors dating each other at Hogwarts, McGonagall and the rest of them would just have to deal with it as far as I was concerned.

I got up slowly, exiting the peaceful silence of my room to the bustling of Hogwarts. The air was brisk and chilly due to the fall weather, but otherwise nice, and there were many students taking advantage and spending every free moment outside.

"Ron! Wait up!" I heard Hermione's voice call out to me behind me, and I grinned at her as I turned around and waited for her to walk along side me.

"Hey, Hermione. Doing alright?"

"Very well, thank you. And you?"

I yawned exaggeratedly and stretched my arms. "Exhausted, but otherwise fine. I could do with some sleep."

Hermione smirked. "Isn't that a general statement?"

"Sorry?"

"I mean, it's more like a state of life, after all. It's like you being hungry."

I scowled but otherwise ignored Hermione's jibes at my lethargy.

"Well, whatever," she said. "You're not too tired to skip out on Hogsmeade tonight, are you? We can go tomorrow if you like."

I shook my head immediately, appalled even at the thought. "No way! I've been looking forward to going all week."

"Excellent. I'm going to go grade some essays I just got - meet you at 6:30?"

"Essays? You assigned your students essays already?"

"Of course, haven't you? I gave them one on the first day."

I laughed, glad that I was a teacher and not Hermione's students. "That's terribly mean, Hermione. I suppose it was the first years?"

Hermione shook her head. "Sixth and seventh each got one. I'm not _that _mean, Ron."

"Alright. What was the question again?"

"Is 6:30 fine for you?"

"Yeah, that's good. See you then?"

"See you then," Hermione confirmed, sweeping off to her room to grade essays. I chuckled as I went outside to see Hagrid, wondering if any other teacher had already assigned an essay.

_Hermione's Take_

_That Night_

I took a long look at myself in the mirror, staring pensively at my reflection. I don't know why this night is so important to me somehow, but in a way, it is. I just can't understand it, but in some way, I know that I want to look good tonight. I can't shake the feeling that now, after spending two weeks at Hogwarts, having fully settled in, and starting to become acclimated to our jobs - that now was the time for Ron and I to end years of ambiguity, sexually and romantically speaking. Not that I intended to have sex with him tonight. Although I couldn't pretend that I wasn't...interested in the proposition sometime in the near future, tonight, I would prefer for us to profess our undying and everlasting love for each other, then kiss romantically...and then kiss some more, and then maybe some more. Truthfully, I could only really guess what kissing Ron would be like, and despite my somewhat inhumanly high expectations, I had some hope that the experience would live up to - and perhaps even surpass - them. Of course, dating while teaching at Hogwarts would cause some complications, but honestly, I was confident that it was well worth it. Glancing at the time, I noticed that it was nearly 6:30, and made my way to the Great Hall.

"Hey, Hermione!" Ron greeted me as I came, throwing me a grin. He was leaning against the wall right next to the gate, looking less tired.

"Hey, Ron. How's Hagrid doing?"

"Same as always. He wants you to visit him tomorrow."

I nodded, as I had already intended to do this. "He doesn't have any monsters or anything right now, does he?" I asked tentatively. Most of the time, it seemed like Hagrid couldn't resist going a year without having us face a new crisis, whether it was a giant, a family of acromantulas (thankfully I had missed that one), a three-headed dog, or a dragon. This isn't even including the more minor problems, such as his terrifying cross-breeded Blast-Ended Skrewts.

Ron snorted. "Not yet, but give him some time. We've only just finished the first week. Anyway...shall we?" Ron acted with mock chivalry, half-bowing and gesturing with both arms out the door. I restrained a giggle and went out, hearing Ron come out behind me and close the gates. He caught up to me in a scant few long strides, his longer legs able to outpace mine without any effort, and ambled aimiably alongside me as we went.

"So, where's our first destination?" Ron asked after a minute, blowing on his hands and rubbing them together to warm them from the chilly night air.

"I'd figure a butterbeer would be good," I said, wrapping my cloak slightly tighter around me. I had brought my wand with me this time, but deemed it too warm for a charm anyway, and quickened the pace. Ron nodded and we went into the Three Broomsticks, bustling as a hive of activity. The Three Broomsticks had always been very popular with non-students as well, especially on Friday and Saturday nights. Ron pointed to a table that would be nice and roomy, and coincidentally, was a little secluded from the rest of the room.

"That spot over there good?" I nodded. "All right, I'll get the butterbeers then?" I walked over to our table, depositing my jacket on the back of my chair, and waited for Ron, who was ordering at the table. I saw him grin, with two butterbeers in hand.

"I'll lay off the firewhiskey for you, Hermione."

"Cheers." I downed part of my butterbeer, feeling the usual warmth spread out, and felt my muscles involuntarily relax. We sat in friendly silence, taking in the atmosphere of the village of Hogsmeade. After we had each had two butterbeers, Ron suggested we go back now, and I agreed, grabbing my jacket and following him out after bidding our goodbyes to Madam Rosmerta.

"It's been a lovely night, Ron," I said with strong implications in my voice. It had worked last time, hadn't it? Besides, it wasn't like I was lying.

"Perfect," he said, clearly extremely content. Ron had always harbored a love for the village of Hogsmeade.

"Uh, Ron?" I said, noticing the direction we were going in. "Hogwarts is that way, you know." I pointed for emphasis. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I know. We're going to the lake."

"To visit the Giant Squid?" I quipped, masking my curiosity about what we were doing.

"Naturally." Ron didn't elaborate, although I could tell he seemed a little nervous, even in the dark. He stopped at the edge of the lake, staring up at the stars. I was reminded irrestisibly of how Harry and Ginny had gotten together a mere few days ago, on a similar night. She, of course, had promptly sent me a letter bursting with details (some of which I could have very well done without, since it was somewhat disturbing hearing about Harry's sex life) as soon as it had happened.

"Hermione..." Ron said, his voice trailing off into the darkness. "I figure this has been a long time coming."

"What?" I said. Ron didn't reply, but looked at me for a second, but then leaned in impulsively and kissed me, directly on the lips, then looked away, clearly wondering if he had done the right thing. And so, I showed him.

_Ron's Take_

I don't really know how long we spent out there, kissing. It was certainly darker than when we had started. It was a tough feeling to describe, whatever I had inside me right now. Well, no, it wasn't: bliss. Unadulterated bliss, where every minute seemed to last both a week and a second, where every other person could tell just how happy you were at the moment, when you were so giddy you could feel as though nothing could stop you. It was better than anything, feeling Hermione's hand softly grasped in mine as we walked down the halls.

Nothing could stop this. Nothing ever had before.

The End

Alright everybody, this is it. The End. Sorry. A new story will be up within a month at the very _latest_, as I have several ideas and no idea what to do first. As I said earlier, never a better time to review!


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